


Good Morning

by Whatevergirl



Series: A New Chance at Life [2]
Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-01-08 01:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatevergirl/pseuds/Whatevergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arnold Rimmer and David Lister awaken from stasis, they do not expect what they find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Arnold sighed as he stepped out of stasis, his mind already plotting what he could do before he went to bed. He ought to double check his shift rota for Zed Shift and reassign the shifts that Lister can no longer do. He could hear Holly yammering away at him, but he hurried out.

“Please wait a moment while I wake Dave up, Arnold.”

“Lister is in for the next three years, Holly. I have things to do.” He walked down the corridor without waiting. 

“Arnold…” Holly’s voice was oddly blank. Arnold stopped, rolled his eyes and waited for Holly to speak.

“Well?”

“I’m waking Dave. Stay here.”

Arnold turned, crossing his arms over his thin chest as he scowled. A moment later, he was grinning; Holly was waking Lister up already. Lister was not going to gain any years on him. Excellent.

He smirked as he watched Lister stroll out the booth.

“What you talking ‘bout? I just got in.”

“Please can you both proceed to the Drive Room for debriefing?”

“Debriefing?” Arnold walked back over to stand beside Lister. “You’ve never made me debrief before.”

“Please proceed to the Drive Room for debriefing.”

Arnold curled his lip as he looked down at his bunkmate, before he set off. Lister was just a step behind.

“Where is everyone, Hol?” Lister asked, his thick accent as irritating as ever. Arnold huffed, holding back a response of ‘who cares?’ as he went.

“They’re dead, Dave.” Holly’s face appeared on the grey monitor in the small food court near the stasis booths. 

“You what?” Lister face twisted into an expression of disbelief as he swept a small pile of white powder off a table to sit down.

“Everybody’s dead, Dave.”

“Dead?” Arnold stepped forward, feeling odd. He blinked a few times, trying to focus his mind on actually processing what Holly had just said.

“Yes, Arnold, dead.”

“Everybody?” Lister stuck a finger in the white powder, giving it a lick.

“Everybody, Dave.”

“Dead?” repeated Arnold, dropping into a cold, metal chair. It wasn’t that his legs had turned to jelly, he just couldn’t feel them. He felt this was an important point…

“Everybody is dead, Arnold.”

“Peterson isn’t, is he?”

“He’s dead, Dave. Everyone is.”

“Captain Hollister?”

“Hollister’s dead, Arnold. They all are.”

“Chen?”

“Everybody is dead, Dave.”

“McGruder?”

“Arnold, everyone is dead.”

“Selby?”

“Dead, Dave.” Holly sighed.

“Todhunter?”

“Gordon Bennet! Dead, Dave. Everybody’s dead. Everybody is dead, Dave!” snapped Holly impatiently. Arnold sat and stared at the pixelated face, his mind blank. He didn’t know anyone else to ask about.

“What about Burroughs?”

“They’re _all_ dead, Dave! Everybody is dead, Dave. Dave, everybody is dead.” Holly’s face had a deep scowl set in as he continued. “Dead, Dave, everybody is. Everybody is, Dave, dead!”

“Wait. Are you telling me _everybody’s_ dead?” Lister finally cottoned on. Arnold wanted to mock him for being so slow, but his jaw couldn’t seem to move. Holly just rolled his eyes.

After a few mintues, Arnold made his legs move. He refused to sit there and do nothing. He stood up and Lister copied him.

“Drive Room?” The scouser croaked. Arnold nodded his head, still unable to speak.

The two men stumbled along through the ship, neither speaking. It was rare that they did not bicker, but the two were still in too much shock. Everywhere, piles of white powder covered the floor; there was no discernable pattern that Arnold could see. They were just dropped all over the place.

When they reached the Drive Room, Lister rubbed his finger through the powder that was on the floor by the door. His dark, brown eyes locked with Arnold’s blue ones before he frowned down at the stuff.

“Holly, what are these piles of dust?” His voice was soft as he straightened up.

Arnold pushed a finger into a pile by the scanner console. It was soft. Lister was licking more stuff, from a small pile on a chair.

“That, Dave, is Console Executive Imran Sanchez.” Holly answered.

“Urgh!” Lister yelped, spitting the powder onto the ground and wiping his tongue. He glanced guiltily over at the other man as he wiped his hand on the back of his trousers.

“Holly. What happened?” Arnold asked, turning sharply to face the monitor on the back wall.

“I couldn’t let you out until it was safe; either of you.” 

“What do you mean?” Lister turned around as well, coming to stand beside Arnold.

“Well… There was a leak, right? And I had to save what I could, right? So while I was moving Red Dwarf away from the Solar System, I left you two in there. I sealed off what I could!” Holly sounded quite defensive by the end. It made Arnold suspicious.

“What aren’t you telling us?” he narrowed his eyes. He didn’t always manage to do this in the right situation, but it definitely was now. Holly glanced away from them.

“How long were we in stasis, Holly?” Lister’s voice had a hard edge to it that Arnold had never heard before. He flicked his eyes towards the younger man curiously, before focussing back on the computer.

“I had to leave you both in there till the radiation reached a safe background level…” 

“How long?” snapped Lister.

“Three million years.” Holly’s voice was even, but his face was twitching nervously.

Arnold barely noticed. He felt his legs give way and he dropped into a heap on the floor. He heard Lister mutter something about a library, but the words didn’t make any sense. Library? What was that? Something to do with words… He wasn’t sure what though. He stared blankly at the centre console, trying to make his brain work again.

“Krissie… Is she dead? She is, isn’t she?” 

Krissie? Arnold wondered who Lister was on about. He didn’t know anyone called Krissie.

“I always thought… I never told her, but…” Lister trailed off, sitting heavily down in a chair. It squeaked. Arnold forced his head up, looking over at his subordinate as he tried to think of something comforting to say.

“If it’s any consolation, the age difference would be insurmountable. You’re not yet twenty five. She’s three million. It’s hard work to have a good relationship with that kind of age gap.”

“I always thought… On Fiji. She was gonna come with me. It’s cheap there…”

Arnold still couldn’t think of anything particularly comforting to say. _Don’t worry, you still have me?_ Not now that he was talking about some woman… It occurred to him Krissie was probably Kristine Kochanski. She was an officer whom Lister had dated for five weeks. 

Those five weeks had been wonderful. Lister had been pleasant to talk to. He had defended Arnold when Peterson had been trying to upset him again, waving his hands around in a mockery of the salute Arnold took so seriously. Lister had smiled, he had been genuinely interested in the paintings Arnold had been doing, asking questions about why he painted the background green before he started some paintings and not others, or why he didn’t actually do a thick outline to follow. They had been asked without the intent of mocking Arnold later on.

Arnold Rimmer had been very happy when Lister had been dating the officer. However, that all changed when she chucked him. Gone was Lister’s eager attitude towards their work, gone was his interest in anything Arnold did. His smiles disappeared and he started trying to write music… It had been agony. Arnold had been tempted to go beg Kochanski to drop whoever she was in bed with now and take Lister with her.

Now she was dead… He hoped Lister wouldn’t try write a requiem. The young man was still rambling on about his plan. Holly was just staring at him.

Kochanski was dead. Arnold started with that idea. She was dead. Captain Hollister was too. Yvonne McGruder… Frank Todhunter… Dr McClaren… All the crew… They were all dead. They had been dead for three million years.

Arnold’s stomach cramped suddenly. He curled up from his position on the Drive Room floor. Dead…

The crew were dead… 

Everyone in their Solar System would be dead. Would he have reatives still? Howard juniors times a million running around in Callisto’s breathable atmosphere? Would Earth still be there? How long did stars live? How long would it take for their sun to go supernova and eat up half the solar system like a Catholic who had just broken their Lent fasting on Easter Sunday?

Would Earth now be drifting aimlessly around the sun in molecules? Much in the same manner they probably were drifting through the universe… He didn’t think their mining expeditions would be much use to the human race now.

Was there a human race anymore? Would they still be there?

He looked up from his foetal position to ask…

“What d’ ya mean ‘extinct’?” Lister’s voice was rushed, as though he couldn’t bare to think about the words… Had he been reading Arnold’s mind? Curious. He hadn’t been listening to Lister and Holly.

“Well, three million years is a very good age for a species…” Holly began, but Arnold interrupted him, shuffling so that he was slightly more upright.

“We are all that’s left?”

“The chances of the human race making it to the big three-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh… well, they’re not very good, are they? You may just have to face the fact that your species is gone.”

Arnold curled into himself again, trying to quell the acidic feeling that was spreading through his gut… Extinct…

Lister dropped onto the floor next to him. Arnold moved so that his bunkmate could pull him close. Despite Arnold’s aversion to touching, he rather needed this.

Something began to drip down his face. 

He didn’t dare look at Lister; the man didn’t need to see his tears.


	2. Chapter 2

David Lister was dreaming. He was watching himself at the Copacabana Bar with Kochanski. She was smiling that mega-watt smile at him and listening to him complain about Rimmer. This was normal. He had liked to talk to her about any number of things because she was always sympathetic. 

He knew this was a dream though, mainly because the floor of the bar was actually a choppy sea, crashing into their legs as they chatted. He listened to himself complain about Rimmer for a while, about his annoying habits; about his physical aspects; about the way he complained about not passing exams but never actually got around to sitting them; about the way the man was always painting something. 

As he complained, he became aware of Rimmer, standing nearby. The scouser could hear a noise in his ear, as though someone was shouting him, but Rimmer and Kochanski were not paying him any attention. The other man’s face was odd, a smile upon it. The smile was the oddly fake one Rimmer always painted people with… The smiles in his pictures never actually looked happy. As Lister stared, he realised the difference was in the eyes. He resolved to fix this, and stepped forward, shooting the other Lister in the chest.

Kochanski watched as the man she had been talking to pitched forwards and disappeared. She went back to sipping her drink.

The noise in his ear got louder. It was sharp… He jumped back, trying to move away but he tumbled over, the water around his knees moving him off balance. 

His eyes flew open and he looked around. He was in his bunk.

“What?” he groaned as he looked around. Rimmer was stood by the bunk, glaring furiously, nostrils flared out like a parachute.

“You were snoring.” Rimmer accused him, his nose scrunching up in that weird way it did when the man was annoyed. 

“Eh?”

“You were snoring.”

“Oh. Sorry, man.”

He shut his eyes and let out a breath, his mind drifting back to a bar, but this time it was empty… peaceful… Maybe because no one was there.

“LISTER!!” Rimmer’s exhausted voice snapped loudly.

“What is it?” he grumbled, rolling over to face the back wall.

“You were snoring again.”

“So?”

“I can’t sleep through that noise. It’s like you’re torturing some smegging animal on a rack.”

“I can’t help it.”

Seriously, what did Rimmer expect him to do about it? They had both headed to bed around the same time, but in all the time the younger man had known him, Rimmer had never been able to lie down and go straight to sleep. He was not going to come to bed an hour or two later than Rimmer just to make the man happy.

He heard Rimmer drop back onto his own bunk, whining under his breath about orang-utans and toenails and tooth picks. The man seriously needed to chill out sometimes.

“Rimmer?” he called down, deciding to talk to the man. There were certain things they needed to discuss and it might be easier in the dark.

“What?”

“I’ve asked Holly to turn the ship around.”

“Whatever have you done that for?” Rimmer’s Ionian accent was always more noticeable when he was annoyed. This probably wasn’t going to help…

“I think we should go home.”

“Why? It’s not like we’ll ever make it.”

“I wanna see what’s left. I wanna see if the human race _is_ extinct, or if it ‘as evolved into a race of super humans… I wanna know what’s there.”

“It’s three millions years away, Lister. You may as well forget about it.”

“I can’t.” he really couldn’t. He’d tried to settled down and imagine that the world wasn’t the same anymore. Life on Earth in the twenty third century was not even remotely similar to what it would have been three million years earlier… They didn’t have computers or anything back then.

“Even so… We won’t make it.” Rimmer’s voice had gone soft, whether in sad acknowledgement of the likely passing of their species or in response to Lister’s own unhappy response, he didn’t know.

“We could go back into stasis?”

“No.”

“Why not?” He knew Rimmer liked the stasis booths. He knew the man used them frequently to save up the time he had spare.

“You won’t wake me up again.”

“You what?”

“If we get back to Earth, and that’s a big if in itself, if we get back, you won’t wake me up.”

“What? Course I will.”

“You won’t. We’ll get there and you’ll be caught up in all the high emotions you’ll have and you won’t remember to wake me up.”

“Holly will wake us at the same time.”

“That’s another point. I’m not _entirely_ sure Holly is right after this first three million years. Imagine how he’ll be after another. He may not remember to wake _either_ of us up.”

“Oh, come on. That’s not fair. Holly was an IQ of six thousand.”

“Have you spoke to him? Actually spoken to him? He has some suspicious gaps in his knowledge.”

“What are you saying to me, Rimmer?”

“That right now, I’m not sure Holly could spell IQ.”

Lister sighed, not replying to that. Holly had gone a little weird after three million years on his own, but it was fine. Who cares if he complained about the book ‘Zero Gee Football – It’s a Funny Old Game’ by Joe Klumpp far more often than was probably right? 

“He’ll get us back to Earth, Rimmer. It’ll be fine.”

“I have another objection to that.” Rimmer’s voice was gentle now, not the usual nasally whine he had. Lister shifted, he had a feeling that the dark was helping Rimmer actually open up.

“What is it?”

“I… When we get back to Earth… We’ll…” Rimmer stumbled, but Lister waited. “We have bones in museums of people from three million years ago. People have been trying to understand the evolution of man from something like the nineteenth century, when Charlie Chaplin brought out his book on how humans used to be apes.”

“So?”

“We’ll be walking history. What if… What if they put us in some kind of a museum… or a laboratory or something? What if they do experiments on us?”

“Don’t be daft, man.”

“I’m not.” Rimmer voice raised in pitch, his fear bleeding through into his tone. “I went to boarding school on Earth, in England. We visited the Natural History Museum in London.”

“And?”

“They had all the bones there. They had everything, from the mummified remains of people there to dinosaurs. They had all these objects out on display, just their normal everyday stuff. What if we end up like that?”

“Like… museum displays?”

“Yes!” Rimmer voice was reaching shrill now. Lister realised he was going to have to say something to calm his bunkmate down. He cast his mind around, trying to think of something.

“Like you said, it’s a big if on whether or not we get back anyway. I really wanna try… But, we can take a few days to think about it.”

“We could just fly back, but not in stasis?” suggested Rimmer.

“Why?”

“Maybe… we could find aliens? They could have better scanners than Red Dwarf. They could tell us if it was safe.” Rimmer really sounded scared. He sort of had a point, Lister did not want to become a living museum display, or an experiment; to be poked and prodded to satisfy other people’s curiosity.

“Maybe we could try a bit of both?”

“What do you mean?”

“Explore space for a bit, then go into stasis for a bit… and repeat?”

“Maybe. What are you so desperate to get back for anyway?”

“I have a plan. I don’t have much anymore, but I still have me plan.”

“Plan?”

“Yeah.” What the Hell? He may as well tell the smeghead. “I’m gonna buy some land on Fiji, right? It’s dead cheap there, something to do with a flood. Well, that might have changed now, but I’ll get land somewhere cheap.

"It’ll be good, you know. I’ll have a sheep and a cow. Because... wool and milk. And I’ll have horses, cos that’s what everyone who owns a farm has. I may even grow crops or summet. It’ll be good. I might have to get a cat though. There wasn’t one in the original plan, but I got one on Miranda so I could go back to Earth without getting any older. I got her all inoculated and everything, but she’s in the plan now. 

"I was gonna have Kochanski there too. But, like Holly said, she’s not really… around anymore.” He felt a brief pang, but he carried on. “You could come too, if you like? The last two human beings… We could hang out and keep bitching at each other. And chase off any of the new types of humans away like grouchy old men.”

He grinned at the idea. It actually sounded awesome.

“What do you say, Rimmer?”

There was no reply. As he listened, he could hear Rimmer’s soft snuffling as he curled up into his pillow. Oh well, least now he could go to sleep and not have Rimmer moan about his snoring.


	3. Chapter 3

Holly watched the two humans. They were arguing again. Arnold Rimmer and Davis Lister were always arguing. He hoped they would stop soon, because it wasn’t really very entertaining; they didn’t let him join in.

Currently, they were bickering about Lister’s robot goldfish. Holly wasn’t entirely sure what Rimmer’s objection to the fish was, but he didn’t care. As the saying went, robot fish were robot fish were robot fish… or something along those lines. The point was, it was daft to argue over something like this.

He decided to distract them.

“Hey dudes. What’s happening?”

“Not now, Hol.” snapped Lister, his eyes focussed on Rimmer.

“Oh, you don’t want to know about the life form then.” He hid his image for a moment, knowing they would call him back.

“Life form? Holly?” Lister had turned to face the screen in their room.

“Aliens!” exclaimed Rimmer.

“I dunno what it is.” Holly lied. It would be one of the cat people; they very, very rarely actually come up onto the main decks, as in a couple of centuries could pass before another emerged; still, once upon a time they had had a city in the lower levels. 

“Not aliens?” asked Rimmer, looking slightly disappointed.

“Dunno. I just have something on the heat scanner.”

“Can you tell us anything about it, Hol?”

“Just one thing: It’s not human.”

Lister’s face adopted a serious frown. He nodded his head.

“We’ll grab a couple of bazookoids and head down.”

“We?” Rimmer looked faint. He clearly did not agree with this plan.

“Come on, Rimmer.” Lister turned and left, not acknowledging his bunkmate.

“It won’t kill me, will it Holly?”

“I couldn’t say for sure, Arnold.” Rimmer paled even further, sinking onto his bunk.

“I might stay here.”

“If you stay here and Lister dies you’ll be alone forever.” Holly pointed out. “Go help him”

Rimmer nodded; he sucked in a deep breath and looked at the screen. “What if I die?”

“I doubt you will.” The cats weren’t interested in killing things. Maybe their ancestors had had an interest in mice, but Red Dwarf didn’t have anything more challenging than space weevil scuttling around the decks.

Rimmer stood up, straightened his uniform and hurried out to catch up with Lister. Holly shimmied his attention off the screen and watched the two men through the cameras installed throughout the ship.

There were no cameras in the bowels of the ship. He had heat sensors and he used to be able to send the scutters to look around, but he couldn’t actually see anything down there.

Holly rather hoped they didn’t die in those lower decks, he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

\---XXX---

They emerged with a cat; not the kind of feline that curled up in your lap and dug its claws into your skin to get comfortable, but a cat person. He didn’t seem to have evolved much since the last time Holly had seen one. Cats had always been fashion obsessed. They had always been more interested in nice clothes and mating than in doing anything.

It was fortunate they had evolved on Red Dwarf, he supposed. If they had been anywhere else, they would have had to invent things like washing machines and irons for themselves.

The Cat was currently trying to explain that he didn’t have a name. Lister was clearly struggling with the idea. He argued that society didn’t work without names; that _relationships_ needed names to have any success. 

The Cat scoffed at this idea. He replied that cat relationships rarely lasted more than three minutes.

Holly waited until they entered their quarters before making his pixelated face appear on the screen. Rimmer was the only one to acknowledge him, which he did as he trailed into the room with a wan smile.

As Lister continued to question the Cat about everything he could think of, from how they had built their city, to his parents, to their religion, Holly watched Rimmer curl up on his bunk and turn his back to the rest of the room. Holly assumed Rimmer was worrying about being left alone again; when Rimmer’s personality had been scanned into the computer at the beginning of his time on Red Dwarf, the man had had a great deal of fear of being entirely alone.

It was a reasonable fear; Rimmer was not what most people considered a pleasant man and now that the human race had mostly kicked the bucket, leaving just two splashes of water on the floor of the universe, then Rimmer didn’t have much chance for companionship.

And those odds had just taken a dive now that Lister had found someone else to talk to.

Holly supposed he could make a hologram to keep Rimmer happy if Lister did end up spending all his time with the Cat down in the city. The man did not like to touch people very much anyway, so that wouldn’t be a problem for him.

Sadly, Holly didn’t have anyone in his databanks that Rimmer might get along with, unless he was going to make a second Arnold Rimmer to go along with the first.

\---XXX---

“Jump here, jump back, oh ah! Waahhhh!” sang the Cat.

Holly watched silently. His job was now to look after the two remaining humans. He had to determine whether or not the Cat was actually any good for either of them. He knew he couldn’t cut the oxygen supply off for the Cat when he was on a different floor to the others; Lister would miss him.

On the other hand, Rimmer really did not. Rimmer was filled with jealousy as he had lost all of Lister’s attention. If he removed the Cat from the equation, then Lister would surely have to return his attention to the first engineer. But Lister would be furious.

It was a right smegger of a problem, and Holly just didn’t know what to do.

He didn’t worry about it for long though. His attention was pulled rapidly away when he finally paid attention to the alarm that was buzzing at him.

They were about to hit the light barrier; in less than 0.002 seconds, in fact.

That did not make any sense.

Okay, it was true that a vessel the size of Red Dwarf should cruise comfortably at 200, 000 miles an hour; and, yes, it was true that Holly had forgotten to stop accelerating over the past three million years. 

It was also true that Red Dwarf was now travelling at 669, 555, 000 miles an hour, which was just 45, 000 miles an hour below the speed of light. Holly programmed the computer to slow down. He wasn’t sure this would help, because slowing down when you were going so fast just meant that you weren’t speeding up quite as quickly.

The problem was… The light barrier counts as the ultimate speed limit. Nothing can go faster than light. Holly wasn’t sure what would happen exactly. 

Various theorists had assumed that at the speed of light, your atoms would drift apart and come to rest in different points along your flight path. Other theorists had claimed you would occupy every point in the universe simultaneously. Other theorists had believed you would pass through space into time. Some pessimistic buggers had said you would hit a solid wall of light and be crushed to death.

Still, whatever was going to happen would happen now. If Holly had had actual eye lids, rather than pixelated eyes that were actually linked up to cameras, then he would have squeezed them shut.

Oh dear…


	4. Chapter 4

Arnold was sat cross-legged in front of the food dispensing machine. He had his trolley by him, but he was by himself. Lister wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and Arnold didn’t particularly care where he was. Arnold was busy fixing this machine. He had the parts out in front of him and was trying to fix a 16-C into the slot when the Cat wandered past pushing a rail of clothing.

Arnold debated briefly whether or not to ask him… but decided against it. He wanted to get the dispensing machines fixed or he would be trying to eat new jumpsuits for breakfast. He’d fix the vocabulary unit then move on. It wasn’t really important if the machine had a lisp.

There was a list of jobs that needed doing. Unfortunately, Arnold seemed to be the only one making an effort. After a lifetime making revision notes and posters for other people, he knew stuff. He knew that they had to catalogue and ration their food supplies, and they couldn’t jump back to their own solar system to restock; he knew that the machines they did have would require a certain amount of purging, defragmenting and cleaning up; he knew the hull of the ship would need painting with zinc oxide again, to help defend the hull from space corrosion. 

Strictly speaking, someone ought to look at Holly and fix him up, but Arnold seriously had no idea what to do about that, so Holly would have to be left as he was. 

This was supposed to have a 16-C in it, but it wouldn’t bloody fit… maybe a 15-C? No… but a 14-C seemed to be the right size. He began to put the pieces back together, his mind calling up the careful diagrams and step-by-step charts he had drawn for just this purpose. 

“English Breakfast Tea. Milk, no sugar.”

The dispenser hummed and deposited a cup in front of him. Arnold took a careful sip, and was relieved to find it was what he had ordered. Picking the cup up, he stood and pushed his trolley down the corridor to the next dispenser. Another food one….

He picked up the diagnostic machine and held it out, carefully lining it up with the readout sensor. There was some malware on it, so he inserted the chip to run the solution through the system.

It was curious that travelling through space, with everyone on board dead, that they had managed to pick up malware. He supposed someone must have had programmes running or something when they were all killed…

The dispenser chirped to let him know the solution had uploaded successfully. He set the programme off to clean up the rest of the systems and moved on down the corridor, sipping again at his tea.

There was a faulty door next. Looking at the readout, he decided it was probably just some circuitry that had gotten clogged up with… dust or something in the three million years. He knew you didn’t get dust in space normally, but Red Dwarf was an old ship and she didn’t have the best vacuum systems going… plus all the crew had turned into white powder, who knew where that might have gotten!

Working through the repairs on his own was actually very lonely work. It struck Arnold just _how_ alone he was when he realised he had been working for five hours and hadn’t seen anyone except the Cat earlier on.

Sat on the floor by a work materials dispenser, Arnold dropped his tools and stared blankly at the wires before him. They really were alone. All the people on the ship had died… The human race would be dead….

He had never claimed to be a sociable person, he was aware he often rubbed people the wrong way, though he could never figure out why. However, the thought of being half the human population, of only seeing Lister, the Cat and Holly for the rest of his life…

Misery clouded his vision, making his head spin and he buried his face into his hands. He was fixing things that no one else would ever use… just three people, and not all of them were even human… He was fixing food dispenser machines that would not necessarily ever be used again. Who was to say Lister and the Cat would ever decide to stroll down here and pick up food? 

Why was he even fixing the work materials machine? Who was ever going to need that again? He and Lister already had their own work gear and the Cat would never wear anything so plain; there was no need. He was doing it more out of habit than anything else.

Arnold gasped and wrapped his trembling limbs around himself.

There wasn’t even anyone else there to hug him anymore. 

Not that there ever had been on Red Dwarf, and not that his own family had ever really wanted to either. Howard had been his closest family member, and he was incredibly awkward about touching him. However, the possibility of finding someone was now gone. There was Arnold, Lister and the Cat. The other two didn’t even like him…  
Well, Lister didn’t anyway. Arnold truly had no idea what the Cat thought of him, but that creature seemed perfectly content to follow Lister around, though Arnold didn’t think he believed the ‘I am your god’ thing. He probably end up sharing Lister’s opinions of him, if he didn’t already.

Arnold pulled his knees into his chest, wrapped his arms around them and sobbed quietly into his legs.

He was alone.

\-----XXX-----

“Yo, Rimmer. There you are.” Lister said as Arnold walked back into their quarters. He was exhausted, having spent hours working, then longer than he would ever admit crying, then continuing on working again for several more hours.

“What are you doing?” He asked, staring blankly at the younger man. He was too tired to properly connect the dots; why on Io would Lister be putting all his photos into a box?

“We’re gonna have to go into stasis.” Lister replied, gazing happily at the photo of him with Jim Bexley Speed (Arnold knew who it was because Lister had insisted on telling him all about the experience).

“Stasis? I told you I don’t want to go into stasis.”

“I know. But-”

“You agreed!” His voice squeaked, but he didn’t care.

“You fell asleep. How would you know?”

“You can’t leave me alone!”

“We both have to go into stasis, Rimmer. It’s gonna take thousands of years just to turn around!”

“I want to be in the same booth as you.”

“You what?” Lister wrinkled his nose at him, but Rimmer had quickly made his mind up.

“If we are in the same booth, you can’t decide to leave me in there.”

“I wouldn’t do tha’, anyway. Come on, Rimmer!”

“Don’t forget your smegging fish.”

There was an explosion. Lister grabbed onto the bunk bed he was beside, and Arnold fell to the floor as he had nothing to grab. They stayed frozen for a moment before turning to face the vid screen, the older man slowly picking himself up.

“What’s going on, Hol?” asked Lister.

“Holly? What was that?” Arnold desperately wished he knew how to fix Holly. It was terrifying to think that AI was leading their ship through space.

“Whoops. My fault.” The computer gave them a sheepish grin as he appeared on the screen.

“What happened?” Lister took a step forwards, confusion expressed clearly on his face.

“We’ve broken the light barrier.” The computer said simply.

“I thought that was impossible.”

“Nah.” Holly didn’t seem concerned, but Arnold took no comfort in that. He sat heavily down in the metal chair at their table.

“Is everyone ok?”

“Pretty much.” Holly’s eyes glanced in Arnold’s direction. Lister glanced that way too.

“What about the ship?”

“It’s feeling better now it’s back to its original mass.”

“Oh good.”

“Gotta go. I need to pay attention really.”

Holly’s image dissolved from the screen. Lister turned to face Arnold, who had only part of his face peeking out from his arms, which were folded on the table with his head lying on them.

“You alright, Rimmer?”

“I’m almost totally alone in space, everyone else is dead. And we will be soon because I have no idea how to fix Holly. Even if we don’t die from him flying through a star, I have to repaint the whole of the ship before go into stasis, but we need slow down to do that. And instead of slowing down, we’ve broken the light barrier.”

His pitch got higher and higher. He knew he was getting hysterical, but if there was ever a time to do so, this was surely it. Lister bobbed down slightly beside him and wrapped himself over Arnold’s back in some sort of a hug.

“It’s ok, man.” He murmured softly. “It’s ok.”

Arnold gasped quietly, shudder sporadically jerking through his body and he tried to settle down. The warmth of Lister across his back helped though.

“Sorry.” He breathed softly, needing to say something but not sure of what was appropriate.

“It’s ok man.” Lister repeated, before straightening up and heading out of the room.

Arnold sat at the table for a few moments more, his panic not totally gone, but under control for now. 

“How am I looking?” Came a voice from just outside their quarters. “Goooood! Oh yeah! Any lady cats had better watch out.”

The Cat danced his way inside, before glancing around the room.

“Time to investigate! I think I’ll look at…. These!” He slid over to the fish tank, where Lister’s robot goldfish still swam around. “Mm-mmm-mmmmm….”

Arnold watched curiously as the Cat pulled out a bun and a small, metal net.

“What are you doing?” he asked, standing up.

“I’m gonna eat you, little fishy. I’m gonna eat you little fishy.”

“You’re going to break your teeth.” He sighed. 

“Cat! Stop!” Lister came tearing back into the room, fear flooding his face. “No!”

Lister dived at the Cat, his arms flying out wildly. They fell onto Arnold’s study desk and then Lister pulled away, a grin breaking across his face.

“I got the fish! I’m not gonna die!”

“What? Why would the fish stop you dying?” Arnold asked, his face perplexed.

“My tooth? My tooth! My tooth! I think I lost my tooth!” wailed the Cat running out the room, one hand pressed against his mouth.

Arnold turned to ask Lister what was going on, but the man had disappeared.

“Lister?”

He headed off towards the drive room, wondering where the man had gone. However, as he entered the room, there was an explosion. Rimmer backed quickly out the door horror coiling in his belly as he watched Lister blow up. He hit the wall of the corridor and slumped to the ground.

Lister was…dead?

His stomach rebelled and he curled in a ball trying not to vomit.

He was alone.

Lister was dead.

He remembered the hug Lister had given him not too long ago. He remembered Lister trying to get his robot fish to avoid dying. He wanted to cry.

“Rimmer, you ok?” There was a warm hand on his back and Arnold jumped. He scurried away from the man as quickly as possible.

“You’re dead!”

“You what?”

“You died. I just saw you die!”

“Rimmer, are you alright? Have you been crying?” Lister slowly moved towards him again, squatting down in front of him.

“I’m hallucinating already? I didn’t think my mind would go so quickly.”

“Hallucinating? Is this… Did you see something? Rimmer, they’re future echoes!”

“What?” He stared at the vision, desperately wanting some hope.

“Future echoes; ‘cos we’ve broken the light barrier, we’re seeing bits of the future… or something…” Lister’s face twisted to show he didn’t really get it. “You’d have to ask Holly. He just explained it to me and the Cat.”

“So, I didn’t see you die.”

“You saw me die!?” yelped Lister.

“Well, yes. And I saw the Cat break his tooth when he was getting one of your fish.”

“How did I die?”

“You were doing something with the navi-comp.” replied Arnold softly, shock making his voice weak.

“It was definitely me?”

“You were wearing that hat and those clothes.”

“So I don’t wear a hat. I can live without a hat.”

“I’ll be on my own.” He murmured, his body shaking again. Why did this keep happening? He didn’t want to be in space anymore. He wanted to wake up, tied upside down to one of the trees in the garden of his home on Io. That’d be nice…

“Anyway, just because it’s happened, doesn’t mean it’s happen-happened.” Said Lister, trying to sound confident but not quiet managing it. “Like it might have going-to-have-happened-happened, but it hasn’t actually has-happened… happened… hactually…”

“What?” Arnold asked, the lack of sense in the sentence pulling his attention back.

“Come on. If we can stop one of the other ones from happening, maybe we can stop that one. The Cat will break his tooth in our quarters, did you say? Then let’s move. I don’t wanna die.” Lister jumped to his feet and ran out.

Arnold watched him leave, but it took him a few moments to stand up and head out the door. He headed down the myriad of stairs and corridors to their quarters, but as he approached them the Cat ran past them, his voice panicked as he wailed about his lost tooth.

“You can’t change it then.” He stated quietly, his eyes focussing on Lister’s pale face.

“Emergency, emergency. There’s an emergency going on.” Holly’s bored tone flitted into the room.

“What’s the problem, Hol?”

“The navi-comp is overheating. I need you in the drive room, Dave.”

“Right.” Lister walked over to his locker and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He took a deep swig of it. “Let’s get this over with.”

“I’ll do it.” Arnold spoke up.

“You what?”

“I don’t… if you die, I’ll be alone. So, I’ll do it.” He couldn’t face an eternity of him, Holly and the Cat.

“Don’t be daft. I’ll get Holly to bring me back as a hologram if I need to.”

Lister pulled a pipe off the wall and headed out the door.

“What’s that for?” he asked, “You can’t hit Death with it!”

“If he comes anywhere near me, I’m gonna rip his nipples off.”

Lister turned and stalked out the room. Arnold reluctantly followed, not feeling terribly keen to see his roommate blown to pieces again.

“Three……… Two……. One……” Lister was counting down. Arnold stopped before the door, shutting his eyes and crouching down. He couldn’t watch again.

The whirring stopped and Lister let out a relieved yell.

“I did it! I’m not gonna die!”

“Argh! Dog Attack!” The Cat growled from inside, but Arnold slumped against the wall for a moment, enjoying the noise Lister made as he tried to get the Cat off him.

“Hey, Rimmer? Coming?” Lister held a hand out to pull him up, a grin spread widely across his face.

“Yeah.” He accepted the help and got to his feet.

“Hello, Dave.” A weak voice called from the bunk. It was an old man, with long white dreadlocks and a metal hand. He had a bottle of beer clutched in the other one. “This is me. I mean, you. I mean, I am you. This is you, age 171, Dave.”

They both stepped into the room, staring in both horror and wonder at the old man.

“I know you’re there, ‘cos when I was your age I saw me at my age telling you… what I’m about to tell you. You will have to tell you, when you get to be me.”

“Thank heavens you still have all your marbles.” Scoffed Arnold.

“Shh!” hushed Lister.

“I’ve come to tell you about Bexley.”

“Bexley?” asked Arnold.

“I was always gonna name my second son Bexley, after Jim Bexley Speed.” Ah yes, he remembered now.

“It wasn’t you that Arnold saw in the drive room. It was Bexley.”

“What about me, old man? Do I… you called me Arnold?”

“Go get your camera, Dave. Hurry now. You and Arnold go… head down to the medical bay.”

“Why do you keep calling me Arnold?”

Lister grabbed his camera and hurried out the room, his hand clasped around Arnold’s wrist as he pulled him along.

“I wonder what it is…” He muttered. “Are we gonna see my funeral, Hol?”

“Why would you tell yourself to go take a camera to you funeral?” asked Arnold, sarcasm heavily colouring his voice. “Oh yes, here is a real photogenic moment.”

“Look. The faster we go, the more into the future the future echoes are. Now that we are starting to slow down, they are coming back towards the present.” Holly sighed, as though it should be perfectly clear.

The medical bay door opened then, and another Lister stepped through, with another Arnold just behind him, looking exhausted. They both held a screaming child each.

“I can’t see you, but I know you can see me! I’d like you to meet your two sons! This is Jim!” He nodded to the boy in his arms. “And this is Bexley.” He nodded to the child Arnold held. “Oh stop crying and say ‘Cheese’ boys!”

Lister raised the camera and took a shot! As the two men looked down to see the photograph, the crying faded and they were alone in the corridor.

“I saw this photo earlier.”

“What?” Arnold glanced at Lister.

“Me and the Cat. We saw the picture earlier… Two boys. I get two sons.”

“How do you even do that?”

“What?” They turned and started to head back to their quarters.

“How are you supposed to get two babies when we don’t have a woman on board?” Arnold wondered.

“I dunno. But it’s gonna be a lot of fun finding out.” Arnold couldn’t say he appreciated the look Lister gave him, a slow, searching look down and up his body, ending with the man grinning in an almost suggestive manner at his face.

He scoffed and hurried on. Just because they were the last human beings alive, it did not mean they had to work on bringing the species back into existence together… Not if it was going to happen the way Lister seemed to be suggesting; he’d seen the size of those children.

He really didn’t fancy it.

He couldn’t deny, the thought of two children in what was clearly the not too distant future helped ease his fear of being alone though. He dropped onto his bunk and turned to face the wall, no longer fighting the grin that had been threatening.


	5. Chapter 5

If Holly had had a face, he would have frowned. Things were not going as planned, and Holly had actually gone for making a plan. Admittedly, the plan mainly consisted of 'Turn Around and Head Back to Earth Quickly... but Not Too Quickly, Just in Case They Miss Something Important', but it was a plan nonetheless. 

At first, things had gone well; Holly had found a moon to slingshot Red Dwarf around and they had set off in the other direction... ish. It was the 'ish' that was making Holly want to frown... not that he would. The only face he had could be seen by any of the three men and the humans were likely to ask what the problem. It was a problem he didn't really want to admit:

He was lost. 

Thankfully, the men were a little busy at the moment. Rimmer had briefly gotten his hopes up that aliens might exist before Lister had informed him that the pod they had found came from waste disposal. He could have done it a little more delicately, because now Rimmer was ignoring Lister as the younger human chattered away about being a god to the cat people.

Good. He'd keep talking at Rimmer until the other snapped and then they would have a row. No one would bother him for a while. 

He went back to looking for a familiar landmark, sensors flung out as far as they would go. 

\---XXX---

Elsewhere, on a small and icy moon, the Nova 5 lay in now-frozen-over pieces. The sanitation mechanoid Kryten was humming happily away to himself as he made soup for the survivors of the crash. They had been here long enough that Kryten had successfully grown a wide variety of plants, making cooking far easier; they'd had dirt soup fairly often in the early days, after the supplies had ran out.

The girls had never complained one way or the other, not even when Kryten had had to try and figure out how to cook. He'd found disks with recipes and instructions eventually, along side the information on how to grow a botanical garden. 

There was a thump, and Kryten turned around to see that Fantozi had fell face first onto the table. 

“Miss Kirsty!” He cried, hurrying over. “Are you unwell?” 

She didn't reply, but that wasn't unusual. All three of the girls were quiet these days, conversation having long run dry. Kryten fussed over Fantozi, worried that she might faint again, but she seemed well enough. After placing her cap back on her head at the racy angle she preferred, Kryten turned back to dinner. 

He began humming again; in a few hours he would put the girls to bed and then he could watch it: Androids. His one indulgence. He'd watched every episode so many times that he knew the words, the music and what everyone was doing in every single single of each episode. 

In private, he hoped for another ship to show up, another ship which held new episodes. He wondered if cliffhangers had been resolved, if Hudzen and Roze had ever settled down... The show had been cancelled after 1974 episodes, but they had been gone a long time and the show had been popular; it wasn't impossible. 

The SOS beacon was still up and running, though it probably wasn't in good condition. Captain Richards had forbidden him to clean anywhere near it. He was allowed to fix the beacon if anything went wrong, but he was not to have soapy water in the same room. It had been the same with the engine. He wasn't allowed to touch that before the ship was back together.

Kryten could admit that it would be nice if someone came along and put their ship back together. It was only a shame that none of the girls seemed inclined to have a try. While a captain and a flight co-ordinator may not know enough to fix the damage, surely Kirsty Fantozi, who was a star demolition engineer could work something out; after all, she was an engineer. 

But he didn't say anything. He didn't grouch that the girls didn't seem to want to leave the moon, it was quite nice after all. Instead, he began to chop some of the vegetables he had grown.

\---XXX---

“Rimmer? Rimmer, wake up man! Rimmer!”

David Lister's pitiful whining cut through Arnold's dream and pulled him back to reality. It was the thump as the younger man scrambled out of bed that made Arnold open his eyes.

“I don't feel well.” Lister whimpered. 

Arnold glared at the wall by his bed for a moment before rolling over to frown at his room mate. 

“You shouldn't have gone up to the officer's quarters.” He said plainly. It was too early to be smug about being right, but he was. Lister shouldn't have trusted Holly to decontaminate things on schedule, the AI had been acting strange over the past two weeks and all though he had agreed to help out with stuff, Arnold wasn't sure what he was actually doing. 

“I'm going to the medical unit.”

“Lights.” Arnold called, rolling over and shutting his eyes again.

But he couldn't get back to sleep. Lister's heavy footfalls echoed in his mind as he lay there, trying to banish the concern that was welling up. 

“Oh bloody hell.” he grumbled, twisting again and swinging his legs to the floor. “I'll go check on him. Can always mock him for it.”

“Emergency. There's an emergency going on. It's still going on, and it's still an emergency.” Holly stated blandly, and Arnold rolled his eyes as he debated getting dressed. “Will Arnold Rimmer please hurry to White Corridor 159? This is an emergency announcement.”

“On my way, Holly.” Arnold replied, thoughts about how soon he was going back to bed fleeing from his mind as he ran out. It had to be Lister. Holly was only going to call an emergency if someone was in trouble. Probably... not counting the time Holly had called an emergency because he'd thought of a really good joke and the three lifeforms on the ship had been too caught up in other things to listen.

“Lister?” he stopped near the old, out-of-order statis pod. 

The scouser was unconscious on the floor. Scowling, Arnold stood there, uncertain of what to do. He didn't want to get sick, and he didn't know if touching Lister would facilitate that. He'd have to do something else, but what...

The Cat! Of course. The cat-people had evolved on the ship, surely they would have built up an immunity to whatever Lister had. 

“Holly? Where is the Cat?”

“He's in the mess hall off White Corridor 175, Arnold.”

Without another word, Arnold ran through the corridors to the mess. 

“Come quick!” he shouted as he stopped at the occupied table, his bare feet starting to throb from all of his frantic running. “Lister's fainted and he needs help.”

And despite the Cat slamming is cutlery down, Arnold only got a few steps out the door before realising he was alone. Hurrying back into the mess, he tried again.

“Didn't you hear me? Didn't anyone hear me? Lister had fainted. I need help getting him to the medical unit. Come on!”

He knew he wasn't a people person, but Arnold hadn't even considered the idea that the Cat might prefer to eat over helping his friend. As he turned back to glare at the Cat, he was juggling potatoes. 

Fine. He'd do this himself. He summoned two scutters which were skiving nearby and grabbed some gloves from the medi-box in the mess. Fine. What did he care if one third of the lifeforms about this vessel didn't even care about the other two enough to interrupt his lunch? He was used to doing things on his own. 

Having pulled the tight gloves over his hands, Arnold placed a stretcher next to Lister and carefully rolled him onto it. The sick man groaned softly, but didn't open his eyes. 

“You two will have to carry him to the medical unit for me. You're the same height.” He stated as he beckoned them closer and carefully balanced the stretcher on them. “Right, let's go.”

It was a slow journey, and they had had to stop more than once to put Lister back on the stretcher, but they eventually made it to their destination. First thing Arnold did once they got there was to pull out some smelling salts. He knew where they were kept in here because he had a tendency to faint when he saw his own blood; they'd been used more than once on him.

There was a putrid smell in the cupboard where they had once existed, but apparently they hadn't lasted through the millennia.

“Okay. Plan B.” Arnold muttered, crossing his arms across his chest as he frowned. He didn't have a plan B.

Then he remembered he was only hearing his shorts and a thin t-shirt. Instead of touching his sleeves, the gloves were touching his bare skin. The resulting yelp had Lister stirring. 

“Rimmer?” he mumbled, eyes struggling to open.

“Lister? Excellent.”

Leaving stir to sit up slowly and struggle to his feet, Arnold began hunting through drawers to find the instruction manual for the medicomp unit. Most of the drawers were statis-sealed, the technology adapted to keep medicine fresh. 

“Rimmer? Wha' happened?”

“You fainted.” Arnold was too focussed on trying to get the medicomp running to bother mocking Lister just yet. “Right, I think I just need to press this across your forehead. Hold still. Oh, and this goes on your wrist.”

Lister was quiet as Arnold carefully first the monitor band across his head, then pressed a sensor to his wrist. The first technician then leaned over the unit, trying to work out what to press. Nervous sweat was making his underclothes stick to him in an uncomfortable manner. 

“I press this...” he murmured, flipping a switch and holding down a button. Dots starting turning on the screen. “And... you have a fever. I already knew that. I was hoping for a little more information..”

“I'm fine. Let me go back to bed.” grumbled Lister, who did actually seem to be improving slightly. Maybe the rest had done him good.

“You're not fine.” snapped Arnold, concern hidden with anger. “And it's your own smegging fault for going up to the officer's deck before it was decontaminated.”

“I just wanted to have a look around.” Lister whinged, tugging his blanket up before it slid off his lap.

“You just wanted to go to Kochanski's quarters and wallow in self-pity, and look where it's got you!” Arnold couldn't explain the stab of pain that accompanied the idea that Lister didn't find his company enough. He thought about the hologram projection unit, Holly still had enough power to run a hologram, but he had deemed it unnecessary as the two humans could keep each other sane. Admittedly, Holly had been distracted during the conversation, more interested in the book he had been reading, but Arnold had gotten the information he had wanted. Now, the hologram projection discs were hidden out of Lister's way. It was bad enough that Lister often ignored him in favour of someone who wasn't human, but he refused to lose what little attention he had to someone who wasn't even alive. 

“I'm alright. I've got a touch of pneumonia, that's all.” Lister was still grumbling. 

“It's not pneumonia. Three million years ago it was pneumonia, but it's bred and mutated and now we don't know what it is.” He wished the other man would take it seriously. He wasn't sleeping off a wild night out followed by a bad kebab in which the out-of-date meat had been covered with spicy sauce, it was some monster disease.

“Why didn't I ask her out? What's the worst that she could 'ave said?”

“She asked you out then dumped you for some other guy.” Arnold helpfully reminded him. The fever must have been interfering with his memory. “If you had asked her after she'd dropped you then she may have pointed out you are a smeging goit and she wouldn't be seen dead with you.”

“She might have said yes!” Objected Lister, but the energy that he usually displayed when they bickered was missing. “Stranger things have happened.”

“Only two spring to mind, Lister. The spontaneous combustion of the mayor of Warsaw in 1546 and that incident in twelfth century Burgundy when it rained herring.”

“There's this theory that me and Chen used to have, that everyone's got two people inside of you. You've got your confidence and your paranoia. And your confidence is the guy who says 'hey, you're great, you're dead sexy, everybody loves you'. And your paranoia says 'you're stupid, you're useless, you're ugly and everybody hates you'.”

“It's still just saying you have a fever.” Arnold scowled at the machine, having not listened to a word Lister had said. “It's also given me a code, but I can't access the codebook through machine. I wonder if we still have a copy somewhere. Holly?”

“And what- what had happened was that me confidence would just about persuade me to go ask Kochanski out...” Lister was still rambling on. 

“What's happening?” asked Holly, his face seemed as disinterested as ever.

“What does code A16 BH5 mean?”

“Hang on a sec.” Holly disappeared for a moment. “Stick an IV in 'im.”

“Which one?”

“The one labelled BH5. Don't ask me what it is.”

“You have an IQ of 6000. Why don't you know?” grouched Arnold as he began searching the cupboards.

“I've gotta get back to me book.” and he vanished.

“Thanks a smegging bunch.”

But he found the appropriate IV. He'd done some pretty detailed posters on this in his time for people, back when he'd done revision posters to avoid getting beaten up, and he had watched enough nurses stick IV needles into his own arms from the times he had been beaten up, so Arnold was pretty confident that he knew what he was doing.

But as it happened, it was more difficult than anticipated. One arm would be covered in bruises pretty soon, but at least when he changed sides, the needle had slid in on first try. So, not only had Arnold figured out how to insert an IV on his own, but Lister had fainted a while ago and so had stopped talking. 

Arnold straightened up and frowned at his patient. Were you allowed to leave sick people on their own? When he had lived at home, his parents had never bothered with him when he had been sick, but there had always been a nurse in the medical wing at school, and Howard had always been hovering nearby when Arnold had been sick at his house. 

He decided he would in fact stay here. After all, he'd divorced his parents at fourteen; he wasn't about to use them as is role models. The beds in the medical unit weren't comfortable, but he had slept in worse places.

He actually slept quite well though, sinking into the sleep of a man exhausted both physically and mentally. He'd done a lot of running and a lot of worrying after Lister had woken him in the middle of the night, so when the chance to sleep came along he took it.

Of course, when he woke up, Lister had slunk out. Assuming the man had gone back to their sleeping quarters, Arnold followed. It was time to get dressed anyway. There might have only been three living people on the ship, but that was no excuse to slob about in his underclothes all day. 

When he finally made it back to their quarters, fish were falling from thin air. He didn't bother touching one to find out if they were real, the smell assured him of that. 

“Holly? What's happening?” He shouted as he backed himself out the room.

“If you want my opinion, they all did it.” The AI confided. Apparently, he was still reading Agatha Christie books. 

Arnold snorted angrily, then gagged as he breathed too deeply. The fish scent was overwhelming. “Why- Fish?” he spluttered.

“I'd be lying if I said I knew.” Holly replied, a wistful expression on his face. “The only comparable incident on record is in twelfth century Burgundy when it rained herring.”

As Holly was speaking, a man ambled up the corridor, ringing a bell. Once Arnold had turned to face him, he spontaneously combusted. It was one of those times that the universe set out to confuse him, the first engineer mused as he stared at the pile of clothes that had been left behind. It was often successful in its endeavours. 

“It really is going to be one of those days, isn't it?”

Holly didn't reply, but Arnold hadn't expected him to. He set off to the medical unit to fetch a thermometer, side-stepping the squealing Cat and marching down the corridor. He hoped the smell wouldn't stick. He wasn't terribly fond of fish.

In the medical unit, there were two men. This stopped Arnold short as he hadn't been expecting them. One man was in bold colours, pulling poses in the small mirror and grinning to himself; the other was sat on the exam table, legs dangling off the edge like a child as he hunched his shoulders in an attempt to look small. Neither of them looked in his direction.

“Who the smeg are you two?” He demanded, crossing his arms and fixing them with his best glare. It wasn't an original glare; he borrowed bits from different people; narrowing his eyes like his old gym teacher always had, the confident stance came from the first Captain he had served under before Captain Hollister, and the curl of his lip was an imitation of Howard. The final result was usually pretty effective.

“What do you mean who are we? Who are you? It doesn't matter.” The confident man said without pausing. “I'm not here for you. I'm here for the King! The man of the hour! No, the only living man who matters.”

“Lister then.” He sighed, before straightening up. “He isn't the only one who matters. There are only two humans left alive and I'm one of them, me laddo.” 

“Only two left? Sounds like you two will have to get busy, huh? Repopulate the Earth, yeah?” His attitude to Arnold changed like someone flicking on a light switch. 

“Repopulate the Earth?” he snorted. “We're not likely to ever reach Earth again. And even if we did, we're both men. Neither one of us can get the other pregnant, you gimboid.”

“Nonsense! Nothing is impossible for Davie boy! He'll have you up the duff in no time. All he needs is a bit of confidence, and that's why I'm here.” If he was aiming for modest, he missed by a light year.

“You're here to give Lister confidence?” Arnold curled his lip in an effort to smile which failed as he stepped away.

“Give him confidence? I am his confidence!”

“You're his confidence? You... must be his paranoia then?” His mind drifted back to Lister's babbling several hours ago. “I'll... just go and get him then, shall I?”

“You do that, babe.” Confidence said, winking at the man.

“Right.” and he fled, hurrying back to the sleeping quarters at fair speed.

It didn't take long for him to retrieve Lister, who had woken up and seemed to be feeling better. He didn't get his hopes up though, as in the drive room were rather obvious symptoms of Lister's illness.

“You know what I think? I think you're overreactin'!” Lister replied, rolling his eyes as they stepped into the drive room.

“You see what I mean, Lister?” 

“Ey! It's the king!” yelled Confidence, a large grin stretching out over his face as he stepped forwards and kissed Lister's cheek. “Mr Beautiful!” 

Arnold snorted quietly, distinctly uncomfortable in the presence of such a loud, outgoing personality. 

“Don't you worry, babe.” Confidence said with a wink. “I haven't forgotten you, but how about a spot of breakfast for Mr Wonderful, huh?”

Lister looked perplexed at Confidence as he was led to a seat.

“So, how have you been? Have you lost weight? You're looking great! Is he totally perfect or what?” Confidence winked over at Arnold again as Lister grinned up at him.

“You're my confidence?”

“I just love that accent! It just makes me go all wibbly!” Confidence was beaming. Arnold had stepped back and moved behind Paranoia. 

“I don't understand it. You look like the manager of the London Jets, but you sounds like Bing Baxter, the American quiz show host.” Arnold could have guessed that Zero-G Football would have made its way into Lister's hallucinations some how.

“I'm all the things you associate with confidence, King.”

“And you're my paranoia?” Lister turned to address the sickly looking man in a suit. Arnold mused for half a moment on the difference between himself and Lister; or rather, the fact that he associated a proper suit with confidence, with someone successful rather than some kind of worn out, paranoid unfortunate.

“Isn't that a urine stain on the front of your trousers?”

“What?” Lister looked down. “No, it isn't. It's tea.”

“So, how are you, anyway?” Paranoia got up to have a closer look at Lister. “Isn't that a huge spot appearing on your so-called face? My God, you've got fat, haven't you? Must be all that lager. Bet you've got a terminal disease; always happens to people who least expect it. Don't you find that?”

Arnold half considered speaking up here, but he didn't know what to say. He put his hands on his hips and scowled, but Paranoia wasn't paying him any attention.

“Say hello then, won't you? I'm only trying to be friendly.”

“Baby, baby, what can I say?” Confidence moved forwards, apparently noticing the downcast look on Lister's face. He reached out and pulled Arnold over, slinging an arm around his shoulders as he gazed warmly down at Lister. “Is he the greatest, most handsome, fantastic person ever or am I insane?”

“You're insane.” Arnold replied without any hesitation. It wasn't that he considered Lister especially ugly or anything, it was just that he was a long way off perfect. “Lister, what are you going to do about them?” He shrugged the arm off and stepped back.

“Do? What can I do?” Lister's jaw had dropped at Confidence's attitude to his room mate.

“I think we should arrest them.”

“What for?”

“For being hallucinations.” Touchy-feely hallucinations, at that.

“Oh, come on, smeghead. It's a bit of company, isn't it?” Lister was grinning at Confidence, and Arnold glared from his spot across the room, annoyed at the reminder that Lister didn't think much of him. He was plenty company.

“Lister, you're still sick. These two are symptoms of your disease.” He looked down and noticed Paranoia staring up at him. He edged away. “They're like the spots in measles, the swellings in mumps, the funny walk in cystitis. Until they're gone, you won't be better.”

“Babe, come on!” Confidence got up and grasped his shoulders. “Let's forget this talk, huh? Have a little party, just you, me and King.”

“Hey!” Arnold yelped as he was crushed to the large chest, his breath catching. “Let go!”

“Come on, mate.” Lister had apparently noticed Arnold's discomfort because he quickly separated them. 

“He not coming with us?” Confidence grinned widely at both off them.

“Why would he want to go with you? It's not like you're particularly wonderful. You're immature and lazy, nothing that First Technician Rimmer would be interested in.” Paranoia stood up, curling a lip as he looked at Lister.

“Nonsense.” But Confidence never got the chance to extol the wonders of Lister again because the man had left. 

As Confidence strolled out, Paranoia turned to look at Arnold. His lips twitched in what might have been a smile before he too scurried out. Arnold wondered if he ought to go and check on them, but then decided it wasn't necessary. Lunch time had come and gone and he wanted to eat something.

\---XXX---

If he was going to be honest, Lister actually wanted to know why his confidence was so interested in Rimmer. Was it that he simply couldn't accept the idea that someone didn't like him? Or did Lister have a desire for them man deep down... deep, deep down...

As he strummed on his guitar, singing the song he had written after Kochanski had dumped him, he considered the different possibilities. He'd never been excessively popular with the posher ladies that he'd come across in his time. Kochanski had been the exception rather than the rule when it came to her finding him charming, even for a brief while. 

He'd been rejected more than he had been accepted, so even with his confidence encouraging him, Lister had enough common sense to know that people looked for different thing in their partners and he wouldn't be everyone's cup of tea.

So, he moved onto the next idea; that he might hold an attraction to Rimmer.

If you just looked at him, he wasn't really much to go by; big ears, long limbs and a perpetual scowl. However, when he actually smiled, things changed. It wasn't the pinball smile that Kochanski had, the one that lit up a whole room, but it was something. It was a shy, little thing that often looked kind of startled, but Lister had managed to make it appear three times. He was pretty confident that no one else could truthfully hold that claim. 

Still, Rimmer didn't seem to have any friends... or he hadn't, back when the human race had numbered at significantly more than two.

If Rimmer had been a woman, he would have thought about repopulation; about getting down to business and saving their race. However, having sex with Rimmer wouldn't help to bolster their numbers... not that he hadn't dreamt about it on more than one occasion, but his brain did tend to cook up all sorts of situations with a fair range of people for his racier dreams. 

As he finished singing and looked into the gormless face before him, he wondered if his confidence understood he wasn't some kind of superman who could get men pregnant. It wasn't a conversation he was willing to have.

“It's fortunate that you never hit big, the fans would have torn you apart. That was beautiful.”

“I have an album once.” Lister pointed out, unsure of how much of his past Confidence knew about. “We didn't exactly take off.”

“Then those people were idiots! Ask anyone here, they'd love it.”

“Paranoia won't and Rimmer has a different taste in music.” Rimmer liked stuff to do with the 20th century. Unfortunately, he had bypassed all the good music that came from that era and had gone for elevator music, and Hammond organ music. He claimed that it was easier to revise to music if it didn't have lyrics to distract you. Lister supposed that if you were trying to not listen to the music then you might focus better on your notes.

“I don't believe it.”

“I'd prove it to you, but Rimmer hid all the hologram projection discs. Holly said we didn't need them to stay sane cos we have each other so he won't let me have 'em.” Thinking about it, Lister was glad they hadn't met Rimmer's paranoia instead of his own; he would probably be much louder than the weedy man they had left in the drive room. 

“So get 'em back.”

“I don't know where they are.”

“So, let's go ask. How can he deny you?”

As it happened, it wasn't difficult. Rimmer had been in the mess and he had simply snorted into his food when he'd asked. Lister half wanted to reassure Rimmer that the hologram wouldn't be left on, that he wasn't trying to replace the only other living human in the universe, but he didn't really wanted to get into that.

Instead, he thought about where Rimmer might have hidden them. At first, he'd wondered about the solar panel outside their quarters. However, he'd then considered how worried Rimmer actually seemed about being left alone and he changed his mind.

Lister had, several months before the accident, spent hours painting the hull to protect the ship from space corrosion. However, when they had woken up and Rimmer had asked for help in repainting the hull, he had flat out refused. He had, in fact, complained at length about Hollister making him paint the front of the ship while Rimmer had had to go around the sleeping quarters, which had been easier to reach.

He had almost shouted when he worked it out, and Confidence had cheered him on.

Now, he was alone and waiting for the dust storm to pass. He didn't know where his confidence and paranoia had gone, but he didn't much care. He'd find them again in the morning. He felt drained though, the day and his illness catching up to him. He wondered if Rimmer was right, and that he wouldn't get better until the two, solid hallucinations went, or if they were here to stay now.

As much as he liked having new company, he found his confidence a little too intense and his paranoia utterly depressing. As he lay there, drifting off, Lister thought about Rimmer's paranoia. Was that the more noticeable voice in his head? Was that why he was so sensitive about everything?

He didn't have a chance to think about it any more than that, though. Lister drifted off.

\---XXX---

Arnold stormed up to the drive room. It was late evening and he had successfully hidden from Lister and his two followers all day. He'd only encountered the Cat, who liked neither Confidence nor Paranoia and was unwilling to risk making himself sick, and so had made himself scarce. 

The Cat had drifted up and slept in the quarters that Arnold had chosen to stay in overnight. Arnold had wanted to ask why, but the bipedal feline had simply curled up on the top bunk and gone to sleep without speaking a word to him. 

He hadn't understood cats three million years ago; now that one was walking around and talking, he had to accept that this one was even more of a mystery. 

After his tea this evening, he had decided to go to the medical unit and grab a medi-box and some antibiotics. He'd looked through some programmes before setting off to see if he could find some way of getting rid of the two new men.

The medi-comp had been battered when he arrived. He already knew who was responsible. Lister wasn't that much of an idiot, he knew they'd need it. The Cat didn't care in the slightest about human technology unless it could feed him. Paranoia wouldn't risk something like this. Confidence, however, probably believed that Lister would never need it. 

“Let me ask you one question.” He waggled his finger in their direction, not entirely surprised to see the two men in spacesuits.

“It's no use arguing, Rimmer. I'm going.”

“Who smashed up the medi-comp?”

“He's stalling, King.” Confidence frowned at him,no hint of a flirty expression on his face now. “Let's go.”

“Holly, give him a punch up.”

When the image appeared, Lister stopped and looked at it for a moment. “Look, what's in it for them to smash up the medical unit?”

“Lister, come here. Come here.” He beckoned the younger man over, still unwilling to go near Confidence. Lister came, but so did the other man. Arnold managed not to flinch. “You're still sick.”

“I feel great.”

“You will not... you will no-...” Confidence was back to grinning at him, but now a large hand was resting on his back. Arnold stood his ground though. “You will not be better until they've gone. They know that and now they've stopped you getting any treatment.”

Lister shook his head though, face screwed up like a child. At the same time though, he pushed Confidence back, away from Arnold. It made it difficult to remain angry at him when he considered his quirks without fuss.

“Storm had passed, Dave. Airlocks are now released.” Holly stated, appearing on screen only briefly. He must have gotten stuck into another book.

“What are we waiting for, King?”

“Nothing.” They left and Arnold pressed a finger to his chin.

“Holly, put a trace on Paranoia.” 

“What's a trace?” Holly reappeared, but was apparently still in the early 20th century with Hercule Poirot.

“It's space jargon. It means find him.”

“No, it doesn't. You just made it up to be cool.”

“Where is he?” snapped Arnold. He'd never been cool in his life and he wasn't about to start trying now.

“Paranoia is no longer aboard this ship.”

He was dead then. The embodiment of Paranoia wasn't about to head out into space on his own. He had a suspicion about what had happened, could almost make it into an epic sequence in his head: Paranoia in the medical unit, busy convincing himself that Lister was even more sick than they thought. Confidence was coming down to destroy the medi-comp, convinced that Lister could live as long as he liked so long as he had enough confidence. Upon viewing Paranoia by the examination table, he'd seen the chance to get rid of two problems with one stone, going to town on both of them.

Still, Arnold wasn't worried about Lister finding the hologram projection discs. He'd shuffled some of the discs around so they weren't all in the right boxes. He'd left most of the higher ranks alone, aware that if they ever needed a doctor or someone with the appropriate access codes to something, then no one would want to be hunting through nearly twelve hundred discs to find the right one, while relying on Arnold's memory.

When Lister finally made his way back though, he was alone.

“Where is Confidence?”

“He took his helmet off.” Lister said, and it needed no more explanation. “I've put the discs back where they're meant to be.”

“You don't want to run a hologram?”

“I was tryin' to prove a point. Doesn't matter now.” Lister looked up at him, a sad smile forming slowly on his face. “And I know you don't want me to run one.”

“So, you're not going to?”

“No.” Lister stated simply before heading off. Arnold stared in confusion at his back. Had the experience helped the younger man gain some maturity? If he knew that Arnold didn't want a hologram going, then he should have set one off just to spite him.

“Arnold.” Holly's face appeared on the large screen in the mess hall. “You'd better come down to the communications suite. We're getting an SOS call.”


	6. Chapter 6

On his way down to the communications suite, Lister stopped to grab a cup of tea and a bacon sarny. It had been a bloody long day, and he still needed to head to the medical unit to check if his pneumonia had gone when Confidence had killed himself. 

“'Ey! This one's working.” He grinned as the dispensing machine actually gave him his requested tea and sandwich. 

“Is it really?” He could see Rimmer's lip curling as the man stalked past him, long legs covering the ground quickly. 

“Yeah.” Rimmer's bad mood didn't dim his own good one. The man was probably still confused that Lister hadn't bothered to make use of the hologram projection discs. 

“Fantastic.” The tall man snarled as he headed off to the Xpress Lift. 

“Guess I'll see you there.” Lister headed off to the quarters off Blue Corridor 133. It was one of the Cat's hiding places, and where he preferred to spend the night, having set the surrounding rooms as storage for his clothing. 

“Cat?” He called out as he headed towards his friend. “You there? Cat?” 

The Cat was one of the oddest men Lister had ever met, including those he had come across in art college and time he had fallen asleep on the bus home from a festival and ended up on the edge of some smegger's estate with a band of drunken, fashion-conscious druids. 

He found the feline in his chosen quarters, humming as he washed his ties. 

“Yo, Cat!” He called out as he slouched in. “We've had an SOS call, didn't you hear Holly?”

“You mean more of you monkeys?” The Cat's disapproval was evident in his face. 

“We're in the communications suite. Come on.” Lister sighed as he headed out. The Cat may not follow straight away, but like his ancestors, he would probably slink in later on and act like it was unintentional that he'd ended up in the same room as them. 

It sometimes amused Lister how similar to old Earth cats, the Cat actually was.

\---XXX---

“It's from an American ship, private charter, called the Nova 5. They've crash-landed. I'm trying to get them on optical.” 

“Not aliens then?” Rimmer asked, his face hopeful.

“No. They're from Earth. I hope they've got a few odds and sods on board. We're a bit short on a few supplies.” 

“Like what?” Lister asked as he sipped his tea.

“Cow's milk.” Holly answered as tonelessly as possible. He didn't really want to get into the supply situation with the humans. They tended to be touchy about knowing what they were eating. “We ran out of that yonks ago. Fresh and dehydrated.”

“What kind of milk are we using now, then?” 

“Emergency back-up supply. We're on the dog's milk.”

“Dog's milk?” Lister stopped drinking, face frozen in horror. 

“Nothing wrong with dog's milk.” Holly defended his choice as Rimmer cackled, apparently not realising that he'd been drinking it too. “Full of goodness, full of vitamins, full of marrowbone jelly. Lasts longer than any other kind of milk, dog's milk.”

“Why?”

“No bugger'll drink it.” He looked at Lister's face and realised that the man still wasn't convinced. “Plus, the advantage of dog's milk is: when it's gone off, it tastes exactly the same as when it's fresh.”

The tea was dumped with a complaint, and Holly had to acknowledge that he may have failed. He had been on his own for three million years at not once had he made a mistake when talking to himself; a few weeks with people around again, and Holly had a suspicion that he had lost some of his interpersonal subroutines. 

“Something's happening!” Rimmer yelped as he pointed at the screen, which fizzled as Holly tried to secure the connection. 

At first, he thought there was a problem with the optical receivers, but after checking, he decided that the flat, angular face was indeed an accurate projection of what was over there.

“Thank goodness, thank goodness! Bless you!” The mechanoid wailed, clearly in distress mode. “We were beginning to despair!”

“We?” The Cat had turned up, in fresh clothing now that he had finished his cleaning.

“I am Kryten, the service mechanoid aboard aboard the Nova 5. We've had a terrible accident! Seven of the crew died on impact; the only survivors are three female officers, who are injured but stable.”

“Female?” The Cat asked, visibly perking up. Holly was eager for them to get there, he hadn't seen a female of any species for 12,349 years. There weren't any statis booths in the design, but perhaps they had been added later on. 

“I am transmitting medical details now.” 

Holly allowed the details to show on the monitor; Captain Yvette Richards, Star Demolition Kirsty Fantozi and Flight Co-ordinator Elaine Schuman. 

“Tell them the boys from the Dwarf are on their way! Or my name isn't A.J. Rimmer, Space Adventurer!” 

“Oh, thank you! Bless you!” Kryten flapped in delight. “I'll tell them.”

“Space Adventurer?” Lister asked once the mechanoid had cut the transmission. 

“It's good psychology. What am I supposed to say? 'Fear not, I'm the bloke who cleans the gunk out the chicken soup machine! Actually, I know smeg-all about space travel, but if you've got a blocked nozzle then I'm your guy'? That's going to have them oozing with confidence, isn't it?” 

Holly rather thought that Rimmer had a point. In the novels he was reading, Rimmer would have been one of the side characters, mentioned only in passing.

“Hey Head, how far are we away?” Asked the Cat.

“Not far. 28 hours?” It was possible. From that last moon had only taken 34, and the distance was only a little bit less... maybe... if he squinted... He'd need to get Rimmer to repair his sensors, once the man had gotten round to painting the hull again.

As the Cat hurried off, closely followed by Lister, Holly stopped the First Technician. 

“Arnold, we have spare medical supplies in Cargo Bay 1.”

“We do? Excellent... Do you think I should wear this, or something more practical? They've crashed, and if I have my jumpsuit on then I can help with any repairs without looking like a total tit.”

“Jumpsuit. Once you've got it on, you'll have enough time to make a start on painting the hull.”

Rimmer glared at the screen for a moment, before he caved.

“Fine. But only because I don't like the idea of space corrosion.” 

“Of course, Arnold.” Holly agreed as the man headed up to his quarters. In return, he would make sure Rimmer stopped in time to get some sleep before they met up with the women on the Nova 5. 

After all, he'd found Rimmer worked best if he thought someone was looking out for him too.

\---XXX---

'Dum dum dummm dum dum DUM dum dum dummm...'

Arnold growled as he pressed his head further into his pillow as Lister's music blasted out the speakers. At least rolled to face the wall, he didn't have to watch the twitching that Lister called dancing. 

“Dum dum dumdum, dun dun dun dummm.” Lister sang along, somehow out of tune with music that barely had a tune itself. 

Arnold curled up smaller in his bed, desperately trying to get back to sleep, but it was no good.

“WILL YOU SHUT UP?!” He finally cracked, sitting up and glaring.

“Pause.” Lister turned to look at him, confusion spread across his face as he looked Rimmer up and down. “Didn't realise you were in here, man.”

“I'm trying to sleep.” Arnold stated, crossing his arms over his chest as he remembered he hadn't even out anything clean on before bed. He was still in the sweaty undershirt and shorts that he had been wearing when he'd been in that spacesuit several hours earlier.

“I thought you'd gone off to do something. I remember you saying something about the diesel decks a while back.” 

Lister was busy fishing a small toffee mallet out his locker to try and soften his socks, and so didn't see Arnold's face.

“You... I was thinking about that months ago. Plus three million years if you could how long we were in statis. You remember that?” He felt oddly touched that Lister had paid hi so much attention. Personally, he would have noted if a superior technician had said something back when he had been starting out, but Lister had never been that kind of person. 

“You had posters of them everywhere, man. You'd have to be blinder than Louis Braille to miss it.” But before Arnold could feel dejected at the response, Lister sent him a small smile. “Plus you were pretty excited. You used to talk about it when we were on shift together.”

“Oh.” Arnold probably resembled a fish with his slack-jawed gormless expression, but he couldn't think of anything to say. He shook his head to try and get his brain working. “No. Holly wanted me to get on with painting the ship.”

“On yer own?”

“You hated it last time you had to do it. And... I like having something to do.” 

Lister gave another small smile, though it was different to the last one. Arnold hoped it wasn't pitying, but it was hard to say when he'd never made any great efforts to study the subtle expressions that crossed people's faces. He knew anger, he knew boredom and he knew fear; in the grand scheme of things, those were the important expressions to recognise. 

As Lister moved to his locker to pull out a brown paper bag that Arnold knew contained a ratty old pair of underpants (he'd only checked because he had suspected Lister of smuggling contraband aboard), the older man staggered out of his bunk and grabbed his towel. 

A shower first, then he'd get dressed and go rescue these women. They weren't in the Jupiter Mining Corps, so they had no ability to take control of his ship. Heck, they weren't even in the Space Corps; then he may have had enough respect for them to let them take control. No. Holly had found they had something to do with advertising; he wasn't sure what, but something to do with a popular fizzy drink.

Advertising. He scoffed as he stripped off his underclothes and pushed them into the laundry chute. Miners where needed, this ship had an important job. Maybe not as flashy as the goits who shot about in modern ships for the Space Corps, but it was one of the jobs that needed doing. The ores needed collecting and transporting. 

He scoffed again as he turned the water on and stepped under the spray. Even as a technician aboard this ship, his job was still more important than a Captain who worked for a company that main purpose was to tell people what to drink... It wasn't even alcoholic, for smeg's sake!

He just had to remember that. He had to keep in mind that he was more vital to Earth than these three female officers... Or had been, now that the human race was likely gone. 

“I'm matter.” He spluttered softly as he held his head under the spray and reached for his shampoo. He didn't have any posters or flowcharts for talking to officers outside either the JMC or the Space Corps (his brothers were the reason he'd made flowcharts for the Space Corps). 

Not only that, but these girls would take away what attention he had from the others. Lister would probably be pleased if he bogged off to the Diesel Decks... that was probably the only reason he had remembered about Arnold's interest in them anyway; for the chance to have their room to himself. Now, he'd have the chance to be alone in them with three pretty women.

Assuming they didn't take a shine to Cat.

Oh, he could just see it now, that feline sleezing about as he held not only Lister's attention, but the rest of the human race's. 80%, that would be. 80% of the human race would be too interested in the Cat to pay Arnold any attention. 

Well, fine. He'd just focus on becoming on officer himself then. He'd work on fixing the ship and he'd spend his spare time studying. The rest of the crew might be gone, but Holly could still supervise the exams for him. In fact, Holly probably wouldn't charge him to sit them in the first place. With the AI in charge, he'd stand no chance of being able to cheat... but Arnold had to admit that he'd never dared to do that anyway. He'd only thought about it once, and the idea of getting caught had sent him into such a panic that he'd missed the exam anyway.

Everything was fine then. Absolutely and totally fine. He'd rescue these women, who hopefully didn't need a complex MediUnit, and then they'd set off again. While all the others had a dreadful time living in each other's pockets despite the large, empty ship, Arnold would focus on passing his astronavigation exam. Without having to suck up to anyone in his spare time, he'd be able to focus. He'd be climbing the ranks in no time, up the ziggurat, lickety split!

Arnold knocked the water off, and stepped out as the plumbing clunked noisily behind him. He wasn't even going to dress up for these women, he decided. Let Lister and the Cat make a fuss over what they were going to wear. Heck, he wouldn't even wear his everyday uniform. He was going to put his jumpsuit on so that he could get on with painting the ship when they were done.

He finished drying and stood in front of the mirror for a moment, eyes raking over his skin.

He was looking a bit scruffy, he mused. Fine. He'd shave, but he wasn't doing it for anyone but himself. He felt better when his hand slid smoothly across his chin. 

“Holly?”

“What's happenin'?” The AI greeted as the glass in front of Arnold changed from a mirror to a screen.

“How long do we have?”

“'Bout half an hour, I think.”

“You think?” It was comments like that that always worried Arnold.

“Yeah. Depends on the landing. Someone's going to have to pilot one of the shuttles down to the Nova 5. The Blue Midgets and Star Bugs are in the best repair.”

“Who do you think should pilot?”

“Not the Cat.”

“Holly.” 

“Well, you may have only scraped over the pass mark, but you do have a licence. On the other hand, Lister drove hoppers on Mimas for a living and has better intuition with these things.”

“Me then.” Arnold ground out as he began to slather cream over his face. Who the smeg cared if Lister could make the machines sing? Arnold was the only one legally allowed to pilot them. 

“Okay, Arnold.” Holly said in a placating tone as he disappeared. 

“Thank you.” Arnold snapped to his own reflection, a hint of embarrassment giving his face an ugly red flush. He scowled at his reflection for being unattractive, then picked up his razor to shave.

\---XXX---

Lister stared at his hands as Rimmer muttered to himself. The older man was piloting them, and while it wasn't the smoothest ride he'd ever been on, his queasy stomach came more from the idea of meeting people this far out into deep space. 

Maybe in another few weeks, he'd have been more excited to meet someone new, but for the moment he was still getting used to have just the three of them and Holly. 

As the craft jolted down, Lister looked out the main window. 

“Nice place for a skiing holiday.” He said in an effort to break the tension that had built up.

“Anything on the tracking monitor yet?” Rimmer asked as he focussed intently on moving through the atmosphere.

“Not yet...” Lister replied as he looked over at the senior technician. Of all of them, Rimmer seemed the least bothered about meeting three women. He hadn't even bothered putting on his shirt and tie! Instead, the man sat in the pilot's seat wore the heavy duty jumpsuit that was to be worn when doing messy work... As though Rimmer was making an effort to not make an effort.

He still cut a nice figure though, Lister mused as he watched the other. Ok, so he still had a parting so severe that his ear was a risk of being sliced off, but at least he was nice to look at... Something had to make up for the terrible personality, after all. 

“It's up. Eh? Lat. Twenty-seven, four? What's that even mean?”

“Give it here!” snapped Rimmer, flicking a switch on the pilot's dash to transfer the information from Lister's monitor to his own. “Ok... easy does it.”

The landing was rough, but they only bounced twice before Rimmer deployed the caterpillar tracks. As Blue Midget lumbered awkwardly over to the Nova 5, Lister shut his eyes and imagined he was in his bunk, enjoying a vindaloo with some crunchy poppadoms. 

However, when Rimmer announced they were there, Lister still didn't move. He'd only interacted with Holly, Rimmer and the Cat recently; none of them counted as normal. He was out of practice.

“Move now, miladdo. I've still got things to do on Red Dwarf.”

By the time Lister had unfastened himself from the seat and gotten up, Rimmer was marching out the door. The Cat was busy fussing over how to put his helmet on, which was a far better distraction.

“Come on.” he sighed. “Let's get going.”


End file.
